


Carry Me Home Safe And Sound

by madsshine



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Depression, Homelessness, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Substance Abuse, Suicide Attempt, eventual frank/gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsshine/pseuds/madsshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Frank has a restaurant and the Way brothers are homeless</p><p>After a fire destroys their home and takes away everything that was once the Way brother’s lives, they are forced onto the streets. Luckily, a concerned restaurant owner- who has just started to love life again himself-takes pity on them just in time, as one brother starts spiraling into an abusive relationship with drugs and the other battles with trauma-induced anxiety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From The Earth To The Morgue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic ever! The idea for this has been nagging at the back of my mind for a while now, and I finally decided to post it. I would really appreciate constructive criticism if you've got the time so I can improve. I've got most of this story written out, but i'm going to post it in chapters because I don't want to to put up a huge thing that nobody wants to read. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> The title is from Someone Like You by Boys Like Girls
> 
> The chapter title is from Desert Song by My Chemical Romance
> 
> Also, the ages in this fic are really different than in real life. In this AU, Frank is 25, Gerard is 19 and Mikey is 8.

By the time Frank sees the kid standing in the middle of the street, he’s close enough to also see the way his thin coat clings to his shaking body, soaked from the rain. 

“Jesus!” he shouts, slamming on the brakes and banging his fist on the horn, hard. His heart is beating way too fast because _ohmygod he almost just HIT A KID, what the fuck is WRONG WITH HIM?!_ He fumbles with the lock and as he steps shakily out of the car, still breathing hard and high on adrenaline, he realises that the kid doesn’t even seem fazed by this. He’s just standing there in the road, like before.

Frank walks cautiously towards the kid, because this is just weird. It’s dark out except for the few stores on this street that keep their signs lit, but the bright beams from his headlights outline the kid in a way that makes Frank feel like he’s not even human, like this is some sort of test from God or something. He can make out big wire framed glasses hanging crookedly off his nose and two large eyes gleaming with reflected light from behind them, but that’s about it.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?” he starts gruffly. He doesn’t exactly _mean_ to, but he’s freaked out, okay? And he doesn’t exactly know the proper etiquette for this type of situation. 

“Kid? Look i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… almost run you over or… whatever, but it’s the middle of the night, and it’s raining, and you’re just standing there, and I-I mean, I couldn’t see you!” he can feel the hysteria bubbling up and spilling out in his words.

The kid shakes his head jerkily, his matted, dripping hair whipping into his face. Frank takes a few cautious steps closer. 

“N-No? You’re… not okay?” 

“You need to help me. You have to help me!” the kid breathes out in a rush, suddenly running to close the gap between them. He takes Frank’s scratched up hand in his tiny, slippery one, tugging roughly. Frank just stands there, stunned by the sudden outburst. 

“Please.” the boy whimpers, biting his lip, “He needs help!”

Shit.

“W-who? Kid, you gotta tell me who if you want me to help.”

“Gee. Gerard. Please. Pleasepleaseplease!”

“Okay! Okay.” Frank is trying hard to suppress the panic he feels wrapping tight around his veins, but he really has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do. 

“Where is… Gerard? Is he here?” The boy nods. 

“Okay that’s good. Can you tell me what your name is?”

“M-M-M-Mikey” he stammers, gripping Frank’s hand tighter. Frank takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, shakily. He bends down so he’s at eye level with the boy, and like this he can see the fear flickering in his young eyes, even in the murky light of the quiet city street. 

“Alright Mikey. It’s gonna be okay. Let’s go find Gerard, yeah?”

Mikey nods, but doesn’t release his grip on Frank’s hand. He leads him to a dark, creepy as shit alleyway, complete with cliché groaning iron gates, between a Chinese restaurant and a shoe repair store. Frank knows this- this is his neighbourhood. His own restaurant is just a few streets over. His stomach feels like his hand does in Mikey’s icy grip, cold and constricted, when he reluctantly wonders if the kid lives here. He can’t be older than seven, and this isn’t the greatest place to be at night. Hell, Frank doesn’t even feel safe out here now. 

“Is he here?” Frank whispers, like speaking any louder will wake up the demons and axe murders parading through his thoughts. As if it’s an answer, he hears a pained moan from behind the dumpster. 

He walks apprehensively towards the sound, leading Mikey behind him. He can feel the poor kid’s hand trembling, so he squeezes it in a way he prays is reassuring. He’s nervous. Mikey seems okay, but he can’t shake off the feeling that this is one of those crazy things you read about in a newspaper and shake your head at- people using kids to lure in victims for them to rape and disembowel or whatever- but the moaning does Sound genuine, so he goes. 

He isn’t expecting what he sees. Well, he has no clue what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a pale teenager shaking in a nest of hastily thrown blankets and practically glowing in the horror movie-esque blue light from the store signs. For a minute he thinks something is seriously wrong, that the guy is dying or close to it, but when the guy starts laughing hysterically, loudly, he realises that maybe this is something else. He gives Mikey’s hand a final squeeze before gently prying his fingers off so he can crouch down next to Gerard. He can feel waves of heat radiating off the trembling kid, piercing the breezy night air. 

“Hey. Dude. You okay?” Frank tries hesitantly. He’s not even totally sure if Gerard can hear him right now.

“Oh man, I am fuckin’ fantastic.” He drawls as he leans back sloppily against the brick wall Mikey must have propped him up against. He smacks the back of his head in the process, but he doesn’t react if he even notices, even though it sounds painful. The laughing is starting to give way to crying now.

“Did you… take something? Pills? Booze? All of the above?” He asks, staring into Gerard’s unfocused eyes.

“Yeah.” It’s so quiet that it nearly drifts away in the wind and Frank almost doesn’t catch it.

“Okay. It’s… Okay. You’ll be fine. You’re… Are you… Mikey’s your brother, yeah?” because he figures he should know this. 

“Yeah,” Gerard slurs, hiccupping, “He’s my little bro. He here?” 

“I’m right here, Gee.” Frank is surprised to hear Mikey’s quiet murmur from behind him, followed by a more panicked “Is he gonna be okay? He has to be okay! I don’t wanna be alone!” obviously directed towards Frank .

“Yeah. He’ll be okay.” He says soothingly, more for Mikey’s sake than out of actual certainty.

“Okay Gerard,” he continues, “We should go to the hospital.” A clumsy fist swings towards his face, and although there isn’t much power behind it, Frank is glad that that he’s able to catch Gerard’s wrist before he can actually punch him. 

“NO.”

“No? Listen, you are seriously fucked up right now. I almost hit your brother with my car because he was standing in the middle of the street, trying to get someone to help you.” He’s getting pissed because Gerard doesn’t seem like he’s going to cooperate, and it’s late, and he has to be at his restaurant by six if he want’s to be ready for breakfast, and he just doesn’t know what to do. The yelling seems to sober Gerard up a bit, though, even if it does make Mikey tremble. 

“You hit Mikey?” he asks slowly, carefully, and Frank can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with the most sadistic way he can to torture the person who hurt his little brother. It’s enough to make him shudder. 

“No! God, no. Look, i’m here to help you, and if you don’t want my help that’s fine, but i’m not leaving Mikey out here to deal with your drugged up ass. He shouldn’t be out here in the first place.

Frank must still be tripping on adrenaline; because there is no way he would normally say that, and he’s expecting Gerard to freak out, but all he gets in response is a sobbed “I know.” He turns to look at Mikey, who’s huddled on the dusty ground against the opposite wall now, nestled into another filthy blanket. He doesn’t know what possesses him to suggest it, but before he can even think about it he’s saying, 

“How about we go to my house then?”


	2. Sing Me To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is no way in hell that i’m lettin’ you take my baby brother to your house. I just met you. In the middle of the night. In a motherfucking alleyway. I’m not stupid.” He slumps even farther down the wall as he finishes speaking, like he’s trying to hide from Frank’s concerned gaze. 
> 
> And okay, if you put it like that, it sounds crazy. But Frank is familiar with crazy. Frank has lived and breathed and made out with crazy in dark clubs and the basements of people he’d known for all of an hour. Right now, he isn’t prepared to abandon these obviously struggling boys over a tiny bit of insanity, even if he’s not sure why he feels so passionately about them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Lullabies" by All Time Low

“Alright, I might be high as fuck, but i’m not stupid.” Gerard says, suddenly serious. 

“There is no way in hell that i’m lettin’ you take my baby brother to your house. I just met you. In the middle of the night. In a motherfucking alleyway. I’m not stupid.” He slumps even farther down the wall as he finishes speaking, like he’s trying to hide from Frank’s concerned gaze. 

And okay, if you put it like that, it sounds crazy. But Frank is familiar with crazy. Frank has lived and breathed and made out with crazy in dark clubs and the basements of people he’d known for all of an hour. Right now, he isn’t prepared to abandon these obviously struggling boys over a tiny bit of insanity, even if he’s not sure _why_ he feels so passionately about them. 

“Look, its weird, I know,” he pleads, reaching out to put his hand on Gerard’s trembling shoulder, “But it isn’t exactly normal for two kids to be out here, either. Just come with me, at least for tonight. We can figure something out tomorrow. C’mon, it’ll be safer at my place.” 

Frank knows he’s won when Gerard looks up and meets his eyes. He figure that in Gerard’s mind- even when its messed up on God only knows what- Mikey always comes first. If Mikey will be safer at Frank’s house, Gerard will go, even if he doesn’t want to. Gerard sighs heavily.

“Alright. Let’s just get outta here, my head hurts.” Frank just nods, and Gerard continues, “Mikey, you good to go, bro?” 

Mikey’s still slouched against the other wall, head drooping. He looks exhausted. Even in the dim light Frank can see lines etched into his face, and he imagines them being carved by some sadistic sculptor who takes pleasure in slowly destroying the works he crafts. It’s sad, really. Gerard must notice this too, because he slurs,

“Want me to carry you, dude? Its kinda late, I think” and makes a show of untangling himself from his cocoon of blankets and emerging like a drunken, battered butterfly. He pushes past Frank and kneels- or falls; Frank isn’t sure- down on the bumpy gravel in front of Mikey. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea!” Frank interjects quickly; because he’s suddenly having flashbacks of the time he picked his little sister up when he was ten and tried to carry her, only to drop her down the stairs. It was absolute torture to listen to her cry, even worse than the grounding he got, and he really doesn’t want to experience that again. 

“Yeah,” Gerard murmurs, “’Kay, just grab my hand Mikes.” He unsteadily pulls himself off the ground, bringing Mikey with him. The three slowly make their way to Frank’s car in silence. Frank kind of wishes the brothers would try to make conversation, because the lack of other things to think about is giving his brain lots of time to wonder what the fuck he’s doing, taking two random homeless kids to his tiny little apartment. 

“This is my car.” He says quietly, leaning against the dented metal. Fuck, he’s tired. Now that the crisis seems to be over the exhaustion and looming idea of work in the morning are starting to set back in. 

Nodding, Gerard ushers a nervous looking Mikey to the back seat and buckles him in. He turns to head to the front seat, but Mikey is still clinging to his hand, eyes wide. 

“You’re gonna go!” Mikey whimpers. He looks seconds away from crying. “You’re gonna leave me too!” 

Gerard sighs and leans down. “Hey, Kiddo, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” He whispers, clumsily brushing the hair out of Mikey’s eyes. 

“Stay! Please!” 

Tears are glistening on Mikey’s hollow cheeks, and Frank feels like he should turn away, give them some privacy. He doesn’t, though, because he’s intrigued now. The brother’s story clearly runs deeper than just a homeless druggie and his kid brother. He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to them! If there’s one thing Frank loves, it’s a good story.

“Okay! Okay.” Frank shakes his head to clear it when Gerard’s words draw him out of his thoughts. “I’m gonna stay in the back, cool?” 

“Yeah,” He agrees, “Sure.”

They drive in silence for a while, and when they’re about five minutes from Frank’s shitty apartment, Gerard- who thankfully seems to be a little more sober now- asks the question Frank has been purposely avoiding thinking about. 

“Look man, no offense or anything, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who can afford to take in two random ass kids for no reason. What gives?”

They’ve hit a red light, so Frank sighs and looks back. Mikey is asleep, curled against Gerard, who has a protective arm around him. 

“That’s a good question. I don’t have a good answer though, so you probably should just go with it. This has to better than an alleyway, right?” 

“Yeah… Okay. You lay a finger on my brother though, and I swear to God-“

“I don’t want to hurt you, Jesus!”

They drive the rest of the way in silence, but Frank doesn’t miss the hostile glares Gerard is shooting him in the rearview mirror. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Frank gets the brothers settled in his guest room. He’s never been more grateful that he lives alone, because his apartment is pretty small for one person, and three might be pushing it. He’ll make it work. He will. 

“I only have one extra bed,” He says apologetically to Gerard, as he stands in the doorway, “Unless one of you wants to sleep on the couch…” Frank doubts that they will though. Mikey is still half asleep, and Gerard, who has his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and is probably the only thing keeping him upright at this point, seems reluctant to leave him. 

“This is fine.” He says, “Thanks. For…for everything.”

Frank nods and turns to leave with an awkward, “Yeah. Okay, you sleep off whatever shit you took. You’ll feel better in the morning. You can, uh, come get me if you need anything.” and then the world blurs together until he's curled up in his bed, drifting off to sleep.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

If Frank had a list of ways he liked to be woken up, screaming would be so far off the list it was in alarm clock hell. This normally isn’t a problem, seeing as he lives alone, so he panics big time when that’s how he wakes up. He bolts upright and spares a glance at his clock. The blurry atomic green numbers blink 4:27 at him, and it takes him a minute to remember that there are other people living here now. He drags himself out of his warm bed and half jogs, half stumbles down the hall to the guest room, where he finds Mikey sitting up in bed and shaking, with tears streaming down his face and Gerard rubbing his back gently. When Frank yawns, Gerard looks up.

“Sorry you woke up. Everything’s okay, though.” He says in a voice that’s much softer than the one he was using with Frank last night. 

“S’okay. Just, what happened?” Frank asks wearily. This night has been dragging on for way to long. He didn’t even leave work until midnight, and by the time they finally got home it was almost two. All he wants is to crawl back into bed, but he figures that if he’s going to play host he might as well do a decent job. 

“Mikey had a nightmare. It’s not a big deal, happens all the time. I’ll get him back to sleep.”

Frank blinks hard and tries to process everything that Gerard is saying. He is definitely going to have to take the day off tomorrow. 

“Okay. Is there anything I can do?” he asks finally.

Gerard shakes his head. 

“Nah. We’re good, yeah Mikes?” Mikey gives a tiny nod and if Frank were more awake he would probably feel bad for the kid. To be honest, Gerard looks really tired too, but Frank figures he shouldn’t bring it up. He gets the feeling that Gerard probably doesn’t take well to being confronted about anything, and it’s really his fault anyway, if the drugs are keeping him up. 

“I’m going to go back to bed then. We’ll work stuff out in the morning, okay?”

“Sure”

Frank is more than thrilled to get back into bed, but even under the covers he has trouble drowning out the thunderous meaning that the quiet soundtrack of muted crying and gentle whispers carries: the boys he’s rescued are broken. He’s just going to have to find a way to fix them.


	3. I'm Just A Man, I'm Not A Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Gerard_. You don’t have to go. You could stay.” The words crawl out of his mouth like persistent insects, and he _really_ needs to learn to control this before he ends up giving he life savings to some guy on the street or something. Gerard lifts his head a bit.
> 
> “Really?”
> 
> Frank runs his palm down his face. “Yeah. Really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Welcome To The Black Parade" By My Chemical Romance.

It’s noon by the time Frank wakes up, and he panics for a minute before he remembers that there’s no way he can go to work today. He walks into the kitchen, because even after all that sleep he could really use some coffee, and is only half surprised to find Gerard already sitting at the small table with his head in his arms. The TV on the corner of the counter is buzzing quietly. It’s just some generic news station; Gerard is probably using it as background noise. Frank knows too well how freaky this apartment can be when you’re all alone in the silence. The light in the kitchen is harsh and fluorescent, and he can’t help but study Gerard for a minute, now that he can finally see him and is fully awake. 

He looks different than Frank expected, not tough at all and like he’s still caught up in the final throes of puberty. He has dark, well, he has dark everything. Dark clothes, dark bruise-like circles under his eyes, shoulder-length black hair that falls in his face and probably hasn’t seen a shower in weeks. Frank can see the mousey brown hair where his roots have grown out though, so it must be dyed. Gerard’s deathly pale skin contrasts sharply with the rest of him, and Frank is still trying to tear his eyes away from the shock of it when Gerard finally looks up.

“Hey,” He croaks. He sounds awful, not that Frank can blame him. The fuzzy memory of coming down from a high while being smashed over the head with a hangover will never be far enough away from him. He walks over to the coffee maker and pushes the ‘on’ button before pulling out the chair opposite to Gerard and sitting down.

“Hi. You feeling better?” 

Gerard shrugs. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry about all the trouble last night”

“It’s really not a problem…” Frank bites his lip, feeling the cold weight of his lip ring against his tongue. He wants to continue, but lately he seems to be the king of saying things he probably shouldn’t, and he doesn’t trust himself.

“Me and Mikey, we’ll get out of here soon, I promise… just, is it okay if I wait ‘till he wakes up?” Gerard says, shifting uncomfortably in his wooden chair. “He doesn’t really get a lot of sleep, as you probably saw, and-“

“ _Gerard_. You don’t have to go. You could stay.” The words crawl out of his mouth like persistent insects, and he _really_ needs to learn to control this before he ends up giving he life savings to some guy on the street or something. Gerard lifts his head a bit.

“Really?”

Frank runs his palm down his face. “Yeah. Really.”

He rationalizes that kicking these boys back onto the streets would just make him an all around shitty person, particularly because they clearly weren’t managing well on their own, and that by helping them out he can maybe- just maybe- clear his conscience from being a complete and utter asshole for half his life. And, okay, maybe he’s a little selfish. Maybe he kind of does want to be the hero, just once. It’s just that he’s never enjoyed the simple act of _living_ as much as he does now, and he can’t help thinking that he can teach Gerard and Mikey to enjoy it too. 

“You guys can stay here as long as you need. I mean, you probably don’t have family or anything to go to, right?”

Gerard stares at Frank for a long time. He’s scared he said something wrong, but Gerard’s hazel eyes aren’t icy, just intense. 

“No.” He says finally. “We don’t have any family.” Frank doesn’t miss the way he slumps a little in his seat, like Frank’s hit a sensitive spot. He doesn’t push.

“Okay. What about school?” He hesitates, “Jobs?” 

Gerard shakes his head. “I-I’ve been looking for work, but I can’t leave Mikey alone and he can’t go to school because of… reasons. Things happened. He can’t go.”

Now Frank is just confused. “Can you tell me what the reasons are?” He taps his fingers nervously on the scratched wood of the table. Gerard puts his head down with a soft _thunk_

“Have you heard of the Ways?” He asks, his voice muffled by the table.

Frank thinks about it, racks his brain for anything involving the Ways. He’s definitely heard _something_ about them. He can recall snippets of fuzzy channel 4 news broadcasts and somber newspaper headlines that he can’t quite place. _Gerard Way_ , he thinks. _Mikey Way_. Michael? 

“Like the Ways who had the house fire?” He finally asks, the puzzle pieces of the names and news reports and sirens fitting into place. Gerard nods jerkily- or at least, Frank thinks he nods- but it just looks like he’s trying to smash his head into the table. Its quiet for a few minutes, and Gerard is tense, his hands clenched into fists. Frank knows he is waiting for the inevitable question, and that he probably doesn’t want to explain the answer. Honestly, Frank doesn’t really want to have this conversation either, but he knows they have to. He swallows hard, his mouth feeling like it’s been packed with the cotton pads they use at the dentist’s.

“I thought everyone died…” He forces out, as gently as he can. This is getting serious. He’s starting to feel like he’s in over his head.

“Yeah, well. You thought wrong.” Gerard’s reply is hard and he doesn’t lift his head. Frank runs his fingers through his hair. Well, he isn’t going to back out now. The rich smell of coffee suddenly hits him, and pressing the button to make it just seems so distant now. He gets up and goes to pull a mug out of the cupboard.

“Want some coffee?”

“Yeah. Please.” 

He grabs another mug.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

They go through two more pots of coffee before Mikey finally pads lightly into the room. Now that they’re caffeinated-probably overly so- both of their heads bob up immediately, and it must look intimidating because Mikey starts to tremble a little.

“S-s-sorry… I’ll… go?” he stutters, turning around quickly, his socks sliding a bit on the tiles. 

“No, dude, you can stay!” Gerard calls, making Mikey stop. He turns back slowly and sits down in the seat next to his brother. 

“Are you better?” He whispers. Gerard bites his lip. He actually does look really sorry, but Frank knows how easy it is to slip that mask on. He knows that even though Gerard probably does mean it, he also will probably do it again.

“Yeah, man. I’m better.” He pats Mikey’s head. 

“Are we going, Gee?”

“Actually, I think we might stay here for a bit with…” He trails off, and Frank realises that he’s never introduced himself. 

“Frank,” He supplies, and Gerard nods.

“With Frank,” He repeats, still focused on Mikey. “That sound good?” Mikey nods and shifts his timid gaze to Frank. Frank notices that he looks different in the light too. He looks rougher than Gerard does, in worse shape. Unlike Gerard, Mikey isn’t made of extremes. His hair is brown and matted down across his forehead, his clothes look less gothic and more…. normal. He’s pale, but more sickly than like a vampire. Really, the only thing that makes Mikey look different from any other kid is how absolutely _terrified_ he looks, even though nothing is wrong. 

“That’s okay?” Mikey asks, and it takes Frank a minute to realise that it’s addressed to him.

"Definitely.” 

“Okay…Can I… Can I have coffee?”

Frank looks at Gerard, who shrugs.

“We’ll take what we can get at this point.” He says. Frank nods and looks at Mikey. He looks like he regrets asking. 

“Sure, then, you can have coffee.” He smiles a little, trying to let Mikey know that it’s okay. He gets up and pours another cup, setting it on the table. 

“Thanks,” Mikey whispers as he wraps his tiny fingers around it. Frank smiles again, more genuine this time. 

“So,” He begins, “We should probably talk, now that everyone’s here. Mikey, Gerard’s decided that he’s going to try to find a job, so we just need something for you to do during the day.”

Mikey is looking down now, swinging his legs under the table. It would be adorable, Frank thinks, if it weren’t so heartbreaking. 

“I can’t go to school.” He murmurs.

“I know.” Frank answers, and instantly regrets it. Mikey shoots Gerard a horrified look. Frank has no idea why this is such a big deal, but he doesn’t want Mikey to panic, so he says,

“No! I mean, sort of. I don’t know everything.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

There aren’t really that many things the kid _could_ do, besides school. Frank and Gerard had been trying think of things before Mikey woke up, but the best they could come up with was ‘staying home’, and neither of them were eager to leave him alone, considering how young he is. 

“Maybe you could come with me to my restaurant?” He suggests suddenly, in his apparently usual fashion of not thinking things through. Gerard is looking at him like he’s just transformed into a bloodthirsty monster. 

“Not to work,” He clarifies, “Just to, you know, hang out. So you’re not home alone.”

It takes some convincing, but they all have to agree that it’s the best plan they’ve got. Gerard and Mikey go to take showers then, because as Mikey tells Frank, they haven’t since they snuck into the community centre pool two weeks ago. Frank makes breakfast while they shower, and then heads to the phone. He certainly doesn’t regret taking the Way brothers in, and he would do it again in a heartbeat, but he _does_ want to know what he’s getting himself into. The one perk of wasting away years of your life at parties is that you make lots of connections, and when it comes to research, Frank knows that there is no one better than Ray Toro. 


	4. The Innocent Can Never Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Toro!” He says, grinning.
> 
> The curly-haired man sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter swivels around at the sound of Frank’s voice. 
> 
> “Hey man! Long time no see. Looks like not much has changed though,” Ray smirks as he gestures to Frank’s frayed pink apron. Frank rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! Apologies for the long wait, but I shouldn't take nearly as long in the future.
> 
> Chapter Title from Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

The restaurant is pretty quiet when Frank goes in the next day, dragging Mikey behind him. It isn’t something he’d usually be particularly thrilled about, but today he can’t help but feel a bit relieved. The last day and a half have been hectic, and it’s nice to be able to show Mikey around and get him settled in the kitchen with a stack of his old comics without having to worry about customers. He won’t admit it, but he’s a little nervous about having to look after a kid all day. 

“You just tell me if you need anything, okay?” Frank says once Mikey gets comfortable on the chair Frank’s brought in from the front. “And feel free to wander around. Just stay away from the stove and the fryer. They can get really hot, and I don’t need your brother trying to kill me.”

He means it as a joke, of course, but Mikey flinches anyway. Sighing, he ruffles Mikey’s hair and heads to the counter, where a customer has rung the little bell he keeps there. 

“Toro!” He says, grinning.

The curly-haired man sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter swivels around at the sound of Frank’s voice. 

“Hey man! Long time no see. Looks like not much has changed though,” Ray smirks as he gestures to Frank’s frayed pink apron. Frank rolls his eyes. 

“It makes the place seem more _homey_ ” he counters, resting his arms on the smooth wood in front of him. Talking to Ray is easy- always has been. It’s nice to have a rock of familiarity to cling to in the midst of the chaos his life has become. 

“Yeah, yeah. How have you been doing? With the guys you… rescued?”

“Pretty Good,” Frank says, lowering his voice. “The younger one is hanging out with me in the kitchen. The older one is job hunting. Hopefully.” 

“ _That’s_ your brilliant plan?” Ray asks, looking at Frank like he’s insane. “You brought the kid _here_?”

“Shhh!” Frank hisses. “He can _hear_ you. He’s a kid, not deaf.”

“Sorry man! Just, you know that that’s a really bad plan, right?” Frank rests his head on his fists.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Okay. Well, I looked up what happened the night that the Way house burned down. Official documents and stuff. It’s not really that unusual. Pretty mundane stuff actually.” Ray reaches into his brown messenger bag and pulls out a neat stack of paper. He slides it over the counter to Frank.

“Thank you, Secretary Toro.” He smirks, sticking his tongue out. 

“Paperwork is an important skill, Frank. A skill that _you_ don’t have. If it weren’t for me, this dump would have been closed down a long time ago.”

“Whatever.” Frank says, only half paying attention as he scans the papers over. “Woah, okay, can you give me a summary of these in like, five minutes or less? There is _way_ too much legal jargon in here.”

Despite being, as far as Frank knows, unemployed besides a few freelance web design jobs, Ray is by far one of the smartest people Frank has ever met. It’s why he was drawn to him in the first place. Even through a haze of drugs and alcohol, he could tell Ray was a great guy. He really is, too. Even though he’s totally straight edge, he used to hang out at parties so there would be someone sober to make sure no one got hurt. Unfortunately for Frank though, Ray’s superior intelligence- while useful- makes it so that Ray has to explain a lot of things to him, the jumble of official forms and timelines in front of him included. 

Ray rolls his eyes. “Basically the fire started in the parents’ bedroom. They never actually determined what caused it, but my guess is that it was an electrical fire or someone left a match or cigarette lit. Don’t see what else it _could_ be. The fire department came and managed to put it out before it spread, but they were too late to rescue anyone.”

“Apparently not, though.” Frank says wearily, nodding towards the kitchen. 

“Guess not. They say how they escaped? Or why they’re hiding?”

“No. I didn’t want to push. When exactly did this happen?”

“The fire? ’Bout a month and a half ago. There was a memorial a few weeks ago.”

Frank exhales slowly. This is crazy. This is impossible. Two supposedly dead kids are living in his house. He’s taking care of them. He _has_ to be going crazy. 

“They’ve been living on the streets for over a month.” He blurts out. Ray must see the terror shading his eyes because he puts a reassuring hand on Frank’s shoulder. 

“Breathe, dude.” He waits for Frank to take a few deep breaths before asking, “How are they doing?”

“Not great. The older one- Gerard- was high and completely wasted when I found them. Hell, he could be high _now_ , for all I know. The only reason I think he’ll come back to my place at all is because I have Mikey.” 

“He’s very protective of him?”

“Totally. It’s almost scary. Mikey’s got to have some sort of anxiety though. He won’t even look at me, and he flinches when anyone but Gerard even goes near him. Just getting him to get in the car with me to go here was trouble.”

Ray considers this for a minute, and Frank swears that he can see the gears turning in his head. Ray _totally_ is that kind of cliché geek.  
“This is very interesting. He probably has PTSD. Maybe it’s not just from the fire. It could be from whatever made them hide.”

“This isn’t some sort of mystery for you to solve, Detective Toro.” Frank whines, rolling his eyes. Ray looks a little hurt, but they go far enough back that Frank knows he’s just playing it up for effect. 

“Whatever. Hey, so according to my research, Gerard is about 19. You into him? Like, _you know_.” He raises his eyebrows. Frank can feel the heat creeping onto his cheeks and the back of his neck. 

“ _Ray!_ He’s a homeless runaway who may or may not be some sort of criminal. He’s probably not even gay. And he’s definitely not my type.” Frank crosses his arms. If Ray dares to say anything else about this, he swears he’s going to get a wooden spoon from the kitchen and hit him with it like an angry old lady. Luckily, he’s spared the trouble because just as Ray is opening his mouth to retaliate there’s a quiet, yet distinct whimper from the kitchen.

“The fuck?” Ray says. 

“Shit! Mikey!”

He spins and runs into the kitchen, his apron getting twisted uncomfortably around his body as he does. He hears Ray getting up and following him, but he can’t pay attention to that. A million possible scenarios are pulsing through his head, each more horrific than the last. He thinks that this must be what it’s like to be a parent, constantly worrying about their child, always fearing the worst. If he weren’t so panicked he’d feel sorry for all the emotional turmoil he probably put his own parents through. It’s only been about thirty seconds, but he feels like he’s moving in slow motion through water. He slams open the kitchen door just in time to see Mikey’s hand catch on fire.


	5. Toss Me A Heavy Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “F-F-F-Frank?”
> 
> “What?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but he can’t bring himself to apologize. 
> 
> “I-I just wanted t-t-to say s-s-sorry.” Mikey’s voice is choked with sobs, and it breaks in the middle of the sentence. For the first time, Frank is reminded of how young he is. He’s forgotten, in the haze of stress and anger, that Mikey is just a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Heavy Rope by LIGHTS

“Mikey!” Frank’s frozen to the spot, absorbing the scene in front of him. Mikey is standing by the stove, his hand crawling with orange-red flames, looking absolutely shocked. He actually seems _surprised_ that the stove would do this to him. In the end, it’s a mixture of Ray’s frantic calls of _”Frank! FRANK!”_ and Mikey’s pained cries -which are starting to get louder- that knock him out of his trance. 

“Fuck! Mikey, what the fuck? Shitshitshit this is so bad.” He babbles as he sprints to Mikey and grabs him roughly by the shoulders, steering him to the industrial sink, which has been miraculously turned on by Ray. Frank can hear the _hssssss_ Mikey’s burning skin makes as he yanks his wrist up and thrusts it into the cool water. They stand there for a few minutes, letting the water run over Mikey’s hand, hopefully preventing whatever damage has been done from getting worse. Frank is panting like _he’s_ the one who was just on fire and just narrowly escaped disaster. _No,_ he thinks, refusing to even let himself even consider what might have happened if he’d come in even ten seconds later. _Everything is okay_ he reminds himself. _Mikey is okay._

“We should go to the hospital.” Ray finally says, breaking the silence. Mikey’s already shaking- in fear or pain; Frank doesn’t know- but at Ray’s words he starts struggling, squirming in Frank’s tight grip. Drops of water fly off of Mikey’s hand, and one hits Frank squarely between his eyes. He’s trying to stay calm, he really is, but he has no idea how Ray does it. He’s so fucking pissed at all of this. Nothing has gone right since he took the Ways home, and he can’t help it. He can feel the anger and frustration boiling, and he can feel the exact moment when they disappear and he just _snaps._

“Fucking STOP IT! Mikey, stop! I can’t take this. You go touch the fucking stove-which I _told_ you not to do, and you get yourself burned and now you don’t want to go to the hospital? What shit are you trying to pull here? You can’t-“

“FRANK! Shut up.” Ray says this with an authority Frank’s never heard him use before, and he can’t help but snap his mouth closed. He stares at his friend in shock. 

“What? You’re scaring him.” Ray says, gesturing to Mikey. His glasses have fallen off in his struggles and are lying shattered on the tiles. “Get it together man.” He turns to Mikey, whose arm goes limp in Frank’s hand, and crouches down a bit.

“Hey dude,” He starts gently. Frank stares at him, open-mouthed like he’s witnessing a miracle. Maybe he is. “I know you don’t know me,” Ray continues, “But my name is Ray. You’re hand is burned pretty badly. I think you would feel a lot better if a doctor took a look at it.”

“No.” It’s mumbled, but firm. It also catches Frank off guard because he hasn’t been able to coax a single word out of Mikey all day, despite his best efforts. 

“Wanna tell me why not?”

“I can’t.” Mikey keeps his gaze set on the ground.

Ray hesitates. “Okay… Will you at least let me take a look at it? I won’t hurt you, promise.” Mikey shrugs, which Frank takes as a good sign. 

“Cool. Come over here and Frank will go get the first aid kit. I know he has one somewhere around here.” 

The second Frank releases Mikey he lurches forwards and stumbles towards Ray, who thankfully catches him by the arms. By the time Frank returns, having dug out the first aid kit from a pile of old tablecloths in the back room, Ray’s gotten Mikey sitting on his chair and is holding ice on Mikey’s swollen, red hand. He sinks down to the cold tiles and just watches. Finally, after a torturous twenty minutes of being alone with his thoughts, Frank sees Ray finish wrapping Mikey’s hand in bandages. He stands up as Ray drags Mikey over.

“Take him home, Frank. I’ll close the place up.” He leans in closer, so Frank can feel the rush of warm air against his ear when he whispers, “The burns aren’t so bad. He’ll be fine. But he’s in shock, okay? Go easy on him.” Ray walks out then, leaving Frank with only a terrified injured kid and a pat on the back.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Mikey disappeared into the guest room the second they arrived home. Although Frank is reluctant to leave him alone again, he doesn’t want to argue and he _really_ doesn’t want to make the kid freak out, which is what has happened the few times Frank has attempted to talk to him. So, he leaves the kid alone and sits in the kitchen, brooding. Brooding is something that he’s good at. A sharp knock at the door forces him to get up. He knows its Gerard because nobody else who would go to his apartment would knock, and he prays that he found a job so that something will have gone right today. Frank isn’t that lucky though, and Gerard practically falls on top of Frank when he opens the door, like he had been leaning on it. His hopes melt away.

“You’re drunk.” Frank is too emotionally exhausted to put any feeling into the words. 

“Nah. Tipsy, maybe. Where’s Mikey at?” 

Frank maneuvers the taller man into a standing position and bars the doorway with his body. He _can’t_ deal with wasted Gerard right now. 

“Mikey is fine,” He’ll tell Gerard the truth, but there’s no way in hell he’s doing it when he’s drunk. He isn’t that clueless. “But you’re not. Leave, and come back when you’re sober. I’ll take care of your brother.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“OUT. I mean it.” He’s seconds away from slamming the door in Gerard’s face when he finally backs off. 

“If you think I won’t get the police, you are _wrong!_ Asshole!” he slurs.

“Okay. Well you know where to find me.” He slams the door and sighs. He doesn’t think Gerard will carry through on his promise to involve the police. The police think that he’s dead, and he’s not in any state to explain himself. Frank leans against the door. What’s _happening_ to him? He hasn’t felt this out of control in months. He walks back to the kitchen and rummages around in the counter under the sink until he finds the bottle of cheap wine he had stashed under there at a time where he was weaker, less sure. Just in case. He figures that if there is any time to relapse, it’s now. Everything is just so fucked up.

He carries the bottle into the tiny living room, not even bothering with a glass, and sets it on the table. He plops himself on the couch and stares at it. He wants to. He wants it so bad that it’s hard to imagine _not_ doing it. But then he thinks about how much work he put into getting clean, and it gives him just enough strength to keep himself from reaching out for it. He’s still staring at it when Mikey wanders in, minutes or hours later. 

“F-F-F-Frank?”

“What?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but he can’t bring himself to apologize. 

“I-I just wanted t-t-to say s-s-sorry.” Mikey’s voice is choked with sobs, and it breaks in the middle of the sentence. For the first time, Frank is reminded of how young he is. He’s forgotten, in the haze of stress and anger, that Mikey is just a kid. 

“I-I just wanted to put the fire o-o-out. It was gonna make you g-go away like mom and d-dad, and I wanted to get r-r-rid of it but it wouldn’t stop and-“

“It’s okay,” Frank soothes, cutting Mikey off because he’s starting to get hysterical. “I know it was an accident.” Mikey sniffles.

“S-s-sorry”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come sit down?”

“O-okay.” He slowly shuffles to the couch and sits, but he keeps his gaze down and away from Frank. Frank isn’t heartless. He knows he fucked up back at the restaurant. He was panicked, but he still should have controlled himself. His therapist keeps telling him he needs to work on that. He sighs. 

“Can we talk about what happened today?” Mikey shrugs and tenses up a bit. Frank is surprised and relieved; he was half expecting Mikey to bolt at the suggestion. 

“I understand why you were scared,” He starts gently, “And that’s okay. But how about if you get scared in the future you come get me and I can help you. Does that work?” Mikey nods, and Frank can tell that he isn’t going to add much to the conversation. That’s all right though, as long as they can work things out.

“I made you m-mad,” Mikey whispers suddenly.

“What?” 

“That’s why you have this,” He points at the bottle, which Frank had actually forgotten about. “You were g-gonna drink it so you would be happy and forget. I know. I make G-Gee have to do it, sometimes. And you were mad at me so you made him leave, but I p-promise he isn’t like me!” His lower lip is trembling, like he’s ashamed of himself, and Frank lets his words sink in slowly. He feels rage burning deep inside him, not even at anything in particular, just at the universe for screwing this kid over so bad. 

“Mikey. Mikey, look at me.” He waits until the kids dripping eyes meet his own. “I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? I’m not mad at you, I promise. I was just really worried that you were hurt. I didn’t make Gerard leave because of you, either. He just needed some time to… get himself together. He’s gonna come back soon.” Mikey looks unconvinced, so he continues.

“I don’t have the bottle because of you. In fact…” He grabs the wine in one hand and takes Mikey’s uninjured hand in the other. He’s surprised when Mikey doesn’t pull away, but decides it’s best not to mention it. He leads the boy into the kitchen. Mikey watches with wide eyes as Frank pours the crimson liquid down the sink, and Frank can’t help but grin with satisfaction. It wasn’t even that hard to do, and he feels strong. 

“You did that f-for me?” Mikey asks, awed, his sobs quieting. 

“Yup.” Frank answers proudly. He feels a little stupid that he’s this happy with himself, but at the same time he feels like he totally deserves it. Mikey is just staring at him like he’s the best fucking thing in the world, which makes his heart contract a bit with pity, because _damn, this kid has low expectations._ He wonders if Gerard has ever done this for Mikey. If he even _could_.  
“You wanna help me make dinner, Mikey?” 

“S-s-sure.” Frank smiles, reaching out as Mikey gropes around for his hand, Frank apparently having won his trust. It’s only then that Frank remembers Mikey’s glasses lying mangled on the floor of the restaurant kitchen. 

“We’ll go get you some new glasses tomorrow after work, okay?” Mikey nods as Frank grips his hand. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off Frank’s chest; like he can breathe again. He’ll find a way to help Mikey get through this. He’s more determined than ever. After all, the kid just saved him from ruining all his progress. He’s still worried about Gerard, but things should be easier with Mikey as an ally. He hopes.


	6. The Wrong Words Will Strand You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank also mentions getting Mikey a therapist, but is met with basically the same reaction as the younger Way. 
> 
> “Not yet,” Gerard tells him, “He doesn’t need it yet.”
> 
> Frank has no idea what that means, but he’s learned better than to ask Gerard to explain the weird, cryptic things he says. In time, they usually explain themselves anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, once again, i'm back! I'm really really awful at updating, I know, and i'm incredibly sorry! I've just returned from hell on earth (Also known as "summer camp") so I haven't had internet for the last two weeks. I meant to update and say this beforehand, but I didn't get a chance. Oh well :p i'm back now, and the good news is I got a lot written at camp, so updates should be super speedy now! Anyway, thank you for bearing with me. Also, huge, huge thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments. It means the world to me! 
> 
> Chapter Title from Play Crack The Sky by Brand New

They don’t hear from Gerard for over a week. Honestly, Frank can’t say he isn’t a little bit relieved. Even though Mikey is a good kid, and Gerard- who _is_ a problem- is nowhere to be seen, the stress he’s feeling is almost overwhelming. He swears he can feel it fighting for dominance with his other emotions until they’re all dead and stress is all he is capable of feeling. He knows Mikey has been feeling it too. The kid is going out of his mind with worry. Frank tries his best to take his mind off it, but there’s only so much he can do. It’s hard to balance an anxious kid and the restaurant. It hasn’t been overly busy lately, thank god, but busy enough that he’s ripped away every time he tries to sit with Mikey for a bit. Luckily, Mikey’s developed a love for comics- which Frank has _a lot_ of- and they keep him occupied for most of the day. Nights are harder, because he still gets nightmares, but they manage. 

It’s the end of the ninth day when Frank hears a knock at the door that he just _knows_ is Gerard. His sixth sense for addicts and drunks, he guesses. Sighing, he heaves himself up from the couch and down the small hallway. Mikey’s already asleep, and Frank really doesn’t want him to wake up. If he has to force Gerard out again, he doesn’t want Mikey to know he was here at all. It will just upset him more. He prays Gerard will at least have the sense to keep quiet at this time of night. 

He opens the door to find Gerard staring him in the eyes. Before Frank can do anything, Gerard says,

“I fucked up.” 

Frank can’t help but notice that he sounds tired. He looks painfully sober.

“You fucked up.” He confirms. 

“I-“ Gerard falters, and they both just stand there for a few minutes, Frank staring Gerard down, Gerard keeping his gaze fixed to the floor like a kid being yelled at. Eventually he looks up again.

“I got a job.” He announces it like you would announce that your dog just died. 

“Oh?” Frank says, because _like hell he did._

“Yeah,” Gerard is speaking faster now. “It’s at a Barnes and Noble. It’s not great- just restocking books and stuff- but it’s a job, and I get a paycheck, and-“

Frank stares in fascination as the words spill out of the taller man’s mouth. It’s the biggest change since the last time they spoke, the way the words tumble out instead of falling flat on their faces. It’s a big enough difference to make Frank believe him. Not enough to make him like him though; Frank’s friendship is hard earned. Even though he knows Mikey would hate him eternally, he _really_ doesn’t want to let Gerard in. He doesn’t trust him, and doesn’t want to deal with him. Just because he’s sober now doesn’t mean he will be tomorrow. He tells Gerard this, and Gerard laughs. 

“I’m sure you don’t. I don’t deserve it. I know that. “ His face suddenly becomes serious, “But before you kick me out can I please just see Mikey? Give me like ten minutes, and I swear I’ll be gone.” He looks almost pathetically desperate, so Frank moves out of the way to let Gerard in, telling himself it’s for Mikey. For Mikey, he can tolerate Gerard.

“Stay sober and you can stay here.” He tells Gerard as they approach the guest bedroom. “He’s asleep.” He adds as Gerard pushes the door open.

“Kay,” Gerard nods. Frank doesn’t know which he’s responding to, but he guesses both. He watches as Gerard climbs into bed and wraps himself around Mikey.

“Hey bud,” he murmurs into the kid’s hair. It’s kind of heartbreaking how ecstatic Mikey looks as he curls into his big brother’s arms and whispers,

“Gee?” 

Like he thought he’d never see him again. Frank realises that he probably see’s a bit of his brother in the heroes of the comics he reads. Gerard is Mikey’s superhero. He can do no wrong. It makes Frank feel like kind of a dick for keeping them apart. He retreats to his own room after a few minutes because he feels like he’s spying on something personal.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next Saturday Frank sits down at the kitchen table to eat his breakfast, still groggy and half asleep, and finds an envelope in his place. Inside he finds a cheque, and it takes a few seconds for him to figure out what it is. Really, he doesn’t want to take Gerard’s money. That was never his goal. He isn’t a millionaire or anything, but his restaurant is profitable enough that he can support himself and two kids who have never actually asked for anything, as far as he can remember. He’ll need to talk to Gerard about this. He sees Mikey wander into the small kitchen then, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Nightmares?” He asks. Mikey nods wearily, plopping himself into the chair opposite to Frank’s. He really wishes there was something he could do for the kid. At this point, crying and screaming at night- sometimes even during the day, when Mikey gets really nervous- have become commonplace. Whatever the big “secret” is that the Ways are hiding from him, it must be awful for it to scare Mikey as bad as it does. 

“We could go see a… doctor about it, you know.” He suggests hesitantly, adding, “It’s not really a big deal. Lots of people do it. You don’t need to be embarrassed about getting nightmares.” When Mikey looks like he might bolt away. In truth though, it’s a lot more than just nightmares. Panic attacks and breakdowns are pretty normal now, too. 

“Mikey, will you at least tell me why not?” He pleads.

“They’ll _know_ ” Mikey whispers, adjusting his glasses nervously.

“Know what?” It’s silent for long enough that Frank thinks he’s not going to get an answer, but just as he’s about to sigh and move on, Mikey says,

“That I’m a bad person, and they’ll take me away, and I’ll never see Gee again!”

_oh._

“I don’t think that’d happen, dude.” Frank says, but this is making him nervous. Does he even _want_ to know the secret?

“They’d know.” Mikey insists gravely, shaking his head. He looks way too old. Frank decides to drop it for now and bring it up later when he talks to Gerard. He just wants to help.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the end, it’s Gerard who approaches Frank, waving the cheque in his hand. 

“You gave it back,” He says.

“I don’t want it,” Frank shrugs, “ I want you to save it.” 

Gerard lets out a frustrated breath, making his long bangs flip up a bit. 

“I don’t think I can do that.” He admits. “I want to, but…”

“I get it.” Frank says, and he does. He’s glad Gerard is at a point- whether for himself or for Mikey- where he doesn’t trust himself. 

“What do you want me to do?” Gerard asks quietly.

“How about I take your paychecks?” Frank suggests. “I won’t cash them or anything. I’ll just keep them until you need them.”

“Sounds good.”

Frank also mentions getting Mikey a therapist, but is met with basically the same reaction as the younger Way. 

“Not yet,” Gerard tells him, “He doesn’t need it yet.”

Frank has no idea what that means, but he’s learned better than to ask Gerard to explain the weird, cryptic things he says. In time, they usually explain themselves anyway. 

One more interesting thing is brought up while they talk. After they’ve exhausted the topics of money and doctors, Gerard blurts out,

“I’m gay!” and then claps his hand over his mouth in a way Frank has only seen in sitcoms, like he didn’t mean to say that and realised too late.

“I-I- _ah, fuck!_ I just thought I should let you know in case you aren’t cool with that or something, but that was really stupid and i’m really sorry. Just ignore me!”

“it’s fine,” Frank says quickly. He has to bite his tongue to keep himself from sharing that he is too. He feels like that would be inappropriate somehow. They move on to other things, but Gerard stops meeting his eyes.

.....................................................................................................................................

Things go smoothly for a while. Gerard keeps himself busy and out of trouble when he’s not at work. He hangs out with Mikey a lot, and he draws. He’s actually a really good artist. As far as Frank knows, he hasn’t had any drugs or alcohol at all, which he has to admit, is pretty impressive. Mikey is still jumpy as fuck, but he relaxes a bit now that he’s sure Gerard is here to stay. It seems like Frank has the biggest problem now.

See, before he knew Gerard was gay it wasn’t so bad. He could pass off any attraction he felt as an unobtainable crush. Just forbidden dreams. Now that he knows, though, he can’t help it. Every time he looks at Gerard he feels himself blush and wonders _what if?_ He refuses to actually do anything, though. He’d feel like he was taking advantage. 

Still, he can’t stop himself from noticing little things. He notices the intensity of Gerard’s face when he’s really focused on a drawing. The way he grins and looks genuinely happy when he’s with Mikey. And he notices that Gerard stares at him too, sometimes. That’s the worst, because it gives him hope, Can’t he just get rejected and be done with this? It doesn’t work that way, though, so he tries his best to carry on like normal, praying that Gerard doesn’t notice him acting weird.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

While Frank is cooking dinner one day, Mikey starts talking about himself. Frank’s glad that he’s finally opening up to him a bit, even though something seems a bit off about it. But he’s curious, damn it, so he encourages him, even though he probably shouldn’t. 

Mostly Mikey’s just spurting random information- his favourite colour, his best subject at school, the way he likes his pizza- but occasionally he says things that trigger warning lights in Frank’s brain. 

“My mom is a meanie,” He’s saying as he fiddles with a placemat. “Was.” He corrects himself, “She was.”

“Yeah?” Frank says, pausing mid-stir of the pasta he’s cooking. 

“That’s what Gerard says.” Mikey shrugs, making a face. Frank takes a deep breath. This doesn’t sound good. 

“Why does he say that?” Mikey suddenly goes still. 

“I’m not supposed to tell.”

“Did your mom say that?”

“Yeah. Or me and Gee will get hurt. She said so! I don’t want Gerard to get hurt!”

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Then, 

“You can tell me, Mikey. I Won’t let you or Gerard get hurt. I promise.”

“I deserved it!” Frank doesn’t think Mikey even realises that he’s crying. He doesn’t want to upset the kid, but he needs to know for sure.

“What did you deserve?” He asks carefully.

“She hit me because I was bad,” Mikey explains nonchalantly, like he’s telling Frank the score of last night’s baseball game instead of discussing his abusive mother. Even though Frank expected this, he whips around so sharply that he splashes boiling water on his arm. 

“It was my fault!” Mikey insists. He’s crying harder now, and it’s so out of sync with his calm tone that Frank freezes. What the hell are you supposed to do in a situation like this? He settles on just shutting the fuck up about it.

“Okay. Mikey, it’s okay.” He soothes. 

“I know!” Mikey hiccups, but he’s noticed that he’s crying and now he’s starting to get hysterical. Frank moves over to where Mikey is sitting and crouches down. 

“We don’t need to talk about it unless you want to.”

“Okay.” Mikey says, a little calmer, but he doesn’t sound convinced. Frank finishes cooking dinner in an uncomfortably tight silence.


	7. I Know It's Alive, And Somewhere For Us To Find Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m mad at myself.” Gerard explains, sounding frustrated. “And I can’t tell you why. You’ll kick us out, and I can’t do that to Mikey.”
> 
> “Try me.”
> 
> “I think i’m in love.” Gerard finally whispers and, oh god. Frank can’t do it. He can’t give relationship advice right now. Call him unrealistic, call him jealous, call him self-centred, but he can’t sit here and listen to Gerard pine for some other guy. It would be like torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Chase This Light by Jimmy Eat World

Neither of the Ways have been talking to Frank. He knows it probably isn’t personal, but it hurts anyway. Normally he’d just shrug it off. Really; he doesn’t care what other people think of him. If he did, he’d be miserable 24/7. It’s just that he can’t stop thinking about secrets, and fires, and fucking Gerard, and _fucking Gerard_. He’s getting himself so wound up that he can’t sleep, can’t concentrate, can’t even think. He _needs_ to talk about it before he snaps, but he’s scared that if he tries to talk to Gerard, he’ll get mad. 

He’s staring at the alien green 3:46 on his clock, thinking that _it really is entrancing in the middle of the night; the only thing you can see in the dark, so you have to focus on it. Become time’s slave._ when he decides _fuck it!_ He’s going to get this off his chest, no matter what the consequences are. The nightly screaming and crying is over, but he knows Gerard usually stays awake for a while after, making sure Mikey is okay. He walks down the hall, determined that he and Gerard are going to talk about this while they’re both tired and vulnerable. While they’re both most likely to be brutally honest.

The dim light from the hallway just lets Frank make out that Gerard is sitting up in bed. He can see the tiny, sleeping figure of Mikey Way curled up next to his brother. Gerard is stroking his hair.

“Are you awake?” Frank asks, feeling stupid as he leans against the doorframe. 

“If I say no, will you go away?” Gerard retorts, rolling his eyes. Frank sighs.

“Can we please talk?”

“It’s four in the morning.”

Frank is getting frustrated. It’s obvious that Gerard is just trying to get him angry, and although he hates to admit it, it’s working. 

“I know it’s four in the morning!” He snaps, louder than he meant to. Mikey mumbles something and shifts around. Gerard glares at Frank.

“Why do we need to talk at four in the morning?” He hisses.

“Because you’re avoiding me. Because you wont even tell me _why_ you’re avoiding me. It’s Saturday, you can catch up on sleep later.”

Gerard looks like he’s going to lash out, but his face softens almost immediately. Frank is relieved, of course, but he’s kind of afraid that this is the calm before the storm.

“Not in here.” Gerard says. “I don’t want Mikey to wake up.” _Are you planning to be loud?_ Frank wants to say, but he thinks that will only start the yelling sooner. Instead he says,

“Fair enough. Balcony?”

“I guess…” Frank figures that’s the best he’s going to get.

It’s a cold night. Wind curls around Frank, making him shiver. He’s only in boxers and a t shirt, so going outside was probably a stupid idea, but this whole thing is stupid, so he doesn’t care. Gerard is keeping his carefully calculated distance, sitting on the ledge farthest away from Frank. He looks like he could tip over with the wind and plummet to his death. Would he die? Probably. The apartment is on the 10th floor. That’s pretty high up. Frank gets lost in thought, trying to calculate the distance from here to the ground. Gerard clears his throat.

“You wanted to talk?” His voice sounds strained. 

“Yeah…” Now that they’re actually here, Frank doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is that it?” Gerard snaps.

“I want to know why you’re avoiding me.” He finally gets out.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You _are_.”

“No.”

“What’s wrong with me, huh? Why won’t you fucking talk to me?”

Gerard leans back until it looks like he’s about to backflip off the balcony. Frank’s heart is pounding, and without really thinking he jumps up and practically tackles Gerard to the cold, cement ground.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Frank asks irritably. He’s sick of Gerard and his mind games.  
“Save me.” He smirks. “You think I was going to fall?”

“Are you _planning_ on jumping off the balcony?” Frank demands. He’s pretty sure Gerard says “No”, but a stray car blaring its horn drowns him out. Fuckin’ Jersey. Frank sighs and moves over so he’s less on Gerard and more sitting next to him. He tucks his knees to his chest. 

“Look,” He starts, “The other day you told me you were gay.” The light on the balcony is dim, and everything looks a murky black and white, but Frank can practically feel the heat of Gerard’s blush. 

“Okay…” Gerard says, clearly uncertain of where this is going. 

“I am too.” Frank admits quietly. He’s never felt like it was a bad thing before, has never felt ashamed of his sexuality until this moment, but Gerard somehow inspires those feelings in him. The man looks like he’d rather be anything _but_ gay. It breaks Frank’s heart, in a weird way.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” Gerard asks, but he doesn’t sound angry. 

“Kind of?” Frank says. Gerard sighs.

“Look Frank, nothing is wrong with _you._ I’m not mad at _you._ Not everything is about you, Jesus Christ!”

“Than what is it? What _are_ you mad at?”

“I’m mad at myself.” Gerard explains, sounding frustrated. “And I can’t tell you why. You’ll kick us out, and I can’t do that to Mikey.”

“Try me.”

“I think i’m in love.” Gerard finally whispers and, _oh god._ Frank can’t do it. He _can’t_ give relationship advice right now. Call him unrealistic, call him jealous, call him self-centred, but he _can’t_ sit here and listen to Gerard pine for some other guy. It would be like torture. 

“With who?” He chokes out.

Gerard pulls his knees up to his chest, mimicking Frank. He looks impossibly small. He doesn’t answer though. The night silence seems like it’s tightening around them, drawing the walls of the small balcony closer together, thickening the tension between the two. 

“I think i’m in love too,” Frank says, just because the silence is starting to hurt his ears. But he doesn’t really mean to do what he does next. Before he can think about it, he leans in and softly presses his lips to Gerard’s. For a few seconds, it’s pure bliss. Frank has been fantasizing about this for weeks, and now that it’s happening all he can focus on is the solid warmth of Gerard. Too soon, though-or maybe not soon enough- rational thought starts to seep through the cracks of the moment, and he starts to actually think about what he’s doing. _Oh god! Nonono! This is so bad, this is worse than anything he’s ever done! Could this be considered sexual harassment? Gerard is six years younger than him, oh god!_ He starts to pull back, apologies on his lips, but then something happens that makes him sure he’s dreaming. Gerard grabs his arms and pulls him back. 

“You’re in love with me?” He breathes against Frank’s lips. Frank nods. What’s happening? He’s so confused.

“I’m in love with _you!_ ” Gerard continues, “I thought you’d be mad.”

“No! God, no! This has been driving me crazy for weeks.” Frank says, pulling back a little but still clinging tightly to Gerard.

“So we can try this? Us, I mean.” Gerard asks. The question hangs in the air as Gerard leans in to kiss Frank again. It’s not overly intimate, but passionate, like the first one. As cheesy as it sounds, Frank thinks he could stay like this forever. He’s pretty sure Gerard feels the same way. He’s never seen the man look so happy.

“If you want to,” Frank says when they finally break apart, “Only if you want to.”


	8. There Is Simply Nothing Worse Than Knowing How It Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank thinks about what Gerard has just said about his mother, what Mikey told him about her weeks ago. He thinks that she was probably like a star herself: incredible from far away, but when you get to close you realise that it’s just a ball of burning rage that’s inevitably going to explode. The thought makes him uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh stuff is REALLY going to start to happen after this chapter!
> 
> Chapter Title from The Calendar by Panic! At The Disco

They end up cuddling on the balcony. Gerard is warm and comforting in Frank’s arms, almost like a security blanket. It’s still chilly, but Frank doesn’t even notice because he’s on top of the world right now. He rests his head in the space between Gerard’s neck and shoulder.

“This is nice.” He says. He feels Gerard nod in agreement.

“You can see the stars here.” It’s true. It’s one of the reasons Frank chose to live here and not in a bigger city with more light and more pollution. He tells Gerard this.

“My mom used to say that the stars are angels protecting us.” Gerard murmurs as he presses himself closer to Frank. “It used to make me feel safe.” Frank squeezes him.

“You _are_ safe.”

“I think I am.” Gerard agrees.

Frank thinks about what Gerard has just said about his mother, what Mikey told him about her weeks ago. He thinks that she was probably like a star herself: incredible from far away, but when you get too close you realise that it’s just a ball of burning rage that’s inevitably going to explode. The thought makes him uneasy.

They fall asleep like that, curled into each other, both of them finally happy. Frank is just glad it’s a weekend and there’s no work tomorrow, because he never wants this to end.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

They keep it private, this _thing_ they have, but they keep it going. Mikey has probably at least figured _something_ is up, even though they haven’t told him. They aren’t actually trying to hide it or anything; Frank can just tell that Gerard isn’t totally comfortable with having a boyfriend yet, at least in public. He looks happy for the first time since Frank has known him though, and that’s all he really cares about.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

“You and Gee are weird.” Mikey says one day, as Frank is flipping a burger. 

“Yeah?” He asks, amused. He grabs a bun and puts it on the grill to toast it. “How?”

Mikey considers this. “You sleep in the same bed now. You didn’t used to do that.” Frank is actually kind of surprised he noticed that. He’d thought they’d been pretty discreet. He isn’t upset though; Mikey would have to find out eventually. 

“You and Gerard sleep in the same bed.” He points out. He takes the bun off the grill and walks over to the other counter so he can put toppings on it. 

“Not now. And anyway, that’s not the same thing.” Mikey crosses his arms. _Lettuce, pickles, onion, ketchup, mayo,_ Frank reads off his notepad, adding them to the bun. “Me and Gee are brothers. You’re just Frank.” At that, Frank can’t help but grin. Mikey is very possibly the cutest kid in the world. 

“Do you have a problem with it?” He asks as he flips the burger on to the bun and puts the top on. He’s not challenging Mikey; he really does want to know. If Mikey doesn’t like it, they’ll probably stop. Well, at least be less obvious about it. 

“Not really…” Mikey says after a while. “It’s just…. I don’t get it.”

“That’s okay,” Frank says, as he gets ready to bring the order out to the customer. “Hang on a sec, okay? We can talk when I get back.”

But when Frank gets back, Mikey has already moved on. He’s kind of glad. He doesn’t know how much Gerard would appreciate him giving Mikey a lesson in relationships. 

“Gerard is weird in other ways, too.” Mikey says, almost immediately as Frank opens the door.

Frank rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“Sure,” Mikey says. Frank actually laughs out loud at that, even though it’s his fault. Mikey is so observant and mature, that Frank sometimes forgets he’s only, what, eight? He doesn’t stop him though, because he likes hearing Mikey thoughts, even if some of them verge on _too adult_ to be thrust onto a kid his age. 

“Why are you laughing? What did I do?” Mikey looks nervous, like he thinks he somehow messed up. Frank doesn’t want to explain sarcasm to him, and he really doesn’t want to deal with a panic attack, so he just says,

“I just remembered something funny. Nothing you did.” Mikey eyes him suspiciously, but seems to accept it. 

“Okay… Well. Gerard usually talks _a lot._ Especially when I make him mad and he has to take medicine.” Frank involuntarily flinches, both at Mikey’s fucked up perception of the situation and the mention of Gerard’s addiction. “But now he barely says anything! I even tried to make him mad so he’d yell, but he didn’t. He just said ‘I love you’ and hugged me!” Frank kind of wants to cry. He can’t even begin to imagine how hard it would be to comprehend normal life after losing everything in a fire and living on the streets with your barely of age, addict brother. Mikey is so young. He forgets that.

He has to admit, though, Gerard _has_ seemed more distant lately. If it’s extending to Mikey too- the person Gerard cares most about- it must be _something_. Mikey looks like he’s suddenly thought of something terrible.

“Did you tell him what I said about mom?” He asks Frank, eyes wild and tearing up. “He’d probably be upset about that! He’s being nice to me when I make him mad because he knows I’m gonna get hurt!”

“Mikey, calm down! It’s okay. Everything is okay.” He waits for Mikey to calm his breathing. He actually hasn’t talked about it with Gerard. He probably should have, but he couldn’t think of a way to bring it up, and figured that the threat was… no longer a threat... so it was okay. 

“Mikey, I haven’t said anything to Gerard. And I don’t think he’s worried about you getting hurt.” He says gently. “I think maybe he’s worried about hurting himself. He doesn’t want to take more of the… the medicine, but it’s hard. Not because of you.” He says before Mikey can ask. “He just wants to make sure you know he cares about you. That’s all.” Mikey abruptly starts talking comics then, which is fine by Frank. He’s worried about his boyfriend, about his sudden change of behaviour, but Mikey doesn’t need to worry too.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Frank can't recall the exact moment when the mutual hatred he and Gerard shared turned to trust, but he’s impossibly glad it did. The other day, Gerard went into Frank’s room in the middle of the night (Which, okay, he usually did anyway, once he was sure Mikey was alright) and said that he thought he was going to slip up. That he was craving a drink or something to take the edge off a bad day. Frank had stayed up and talked him down, and Gerard had actually listened. When Frank thanked him for going to him for help, Gerard had shrugged and said,

“I trust you.”

“I know,” Frank had said, “I trust you too.” Gerard had laughed, exhausted and drained from his earlier crisis. 

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know that too,” Frank had smiled, “I don’t care.”

“I’m serious.” Gerard had said, doing that thing where he changed demeanors so fast you wondered if he’d actually been like that the entire time and you just hadn’t noticed. “I don’t want you to think it was your fault.”

“What? Gerard, what are you taking about?” Frank had asked, slightly panicky but mostly just confused. Did this have something to do with how quiet he had been lately? Gerard, in his usual manor, refused to offer any more insight into the statement. Frank hadn’t pushed. Now he wished that he had more than anything.

Right now, he was staring at his worst nightmare, otherwise known as a note from Gerard. Gerard who was nowhere to be found.  
............................................................................................................................................................

_Frank-_

_I need to clear my head. This is getting too complicated._  
 _I want to be with you- I really do- but you don’t deserve to_  
 _deal with my shit. It isn’t fair for you or Mikey. Please_  
 _take care of him for me, and please don’t think you did anything_  
 _wrong. It was all my fault. I started this whole thing,_  
 _now I need to end it._  
 _I trust you._  
 _I love you._

_Xoxo  
G_


	9. NOT A CHAPTER, JUST A NOTE BECAUSE I'M A HUGE IDIOT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which i realise i fucked up

Well! It has been a very long time since i've updated this story. I'm not sure if anyone is still interested, but if they are i'll be updating within this week, promise! But that isn't what this is about. 

Long story short, i messed up. Bad. 

While transferring the story from ms word to AO3, i guess i accidentally left out the end of chapter 6. Unfortunately, the part i left out included a pretty essential plot point! I've added that part in, so if you want to read it, check out chapter six. And sorry for any confusion this probably caused! Several things make absolutely no sense without this, so they should be more clear now.

So anyway,

Sorry! Thank You! See you soon! :p


	10. Where Did I Go Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re stronger now.” Frank reminds him, crying yet again. “You beat it, Gee. You’ve made mistakes, and you can’t fix those. Dying won’t heal them. You need to reinvent yourself. Make your mistakes seem insignificant beside all the good things.”
> 
> “There are no good things, Frank. Why don’t you understand that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from How To Save A Life by The Fray

“Ray!” Frank pants into the phone. He’s on the verge of hyperventilating. He thought he and Gerard were good, but they clearly weren’t. This is bad. So, so bad. He paces around the small living room, just like he’s been doing since he found the note 15 minutes ago. 

“Frank?” Ray’s solid voice grounds him a little, not making him calm, exactly, but it’s enough that he can pull his thoughts together. 

“He’s gone, Ray.” Frank croaks out, stopping his pacing and sinking down onto the couch. He hears Ray pause what he’s doing. That only confirms it. Something is _really wrong_ with this situation. 

“Gerard? Gerard is gone? Frank, what do you mean _gone_!” Frank reaches to the coffee table and grabs a Kleenex. He blows his nose before answering,

“He’s just gone. I don’t know where. He just… left.” His voice is thick and weighted, and he knows Ray can tell he’s crying, but he really doesn’t care. He misses Gerard. He’s worried about him. He just can’t see the point of hiding that. Ray lets out a slow breath, so close to the phone that Frank swears he can feel it tickle his ear.

“Do you know why?” He finally asks, always logical. Frank wipes his eyes with his sleeve. 

“N-no. I… I don’t know, Ray!” A sob forces it’s way out of his throat. “I’m scared he did something… s-stupid!” he adds quietly, too aware that Mikey is in the kitchen with no clue of what’s happening. Frank is _not_ going to let him find out like this. 

“Frank. Frank! Calm the fuck down!” Frank hadn’t realised that he’s been breathing so fast, but Ray’s words shock him back into reality. He suddenly feels every breath slamming into his chest so hard it hurts. 

“Frank, it’ll be okay. It’s fine. Breath.” He forces himself to listen to Ray’s voice, to focus on the rhythm of his breaths. If nothing else, he knows that he’s not going to find Gerard if he’s passed out. _Calm. Calm._ He collapses back into the cushions, feeling like he’s been stabbed in the chest.

“I’m okay.” He murmurs, because he should probably let Ray know that he’s not dead or anything. 

“Okay. Are you ready to talk about this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I need to.”

“Okay,” Ray sighs. “Was he… Frank, you said you were scared he would do something stupid. He was suicidal?”  
Frank lurches forward and grabs the note off the table. He’s read it so many times, and he hasn’t even _thought of that_. He was just talking about drugs, or drinking, but reading it again…

“I don’t know! Maybe? He… oh god, Ray! I think he might be!” Fresh tears trail down his cheeks and splash onto the ridiculous flowery stationary Gerard’s note is written on. Frank remembers when Gerard brought it home from work. He’d given it to Mikey, and seeing the little guy giggle at it, actually happy for once, had sent them into hysterics too. It was only a few weeks ago, but it seems distant and surreal right now. 

“Frank… I think you’re in over your head.”

“W-w-what? What do you mean, Ray?”

“I know you don’t want to, but Frank, you need to get the police involved.”

“No!” The sheer force of Frank’s voice is surprising. 

“You can’t take care of Mikey by yourself, no matter how much you want to!” Ray all but yells. “God dammit, Frank!”

“I can’t betray him like that! I love him!” Frank doesn’t even have enough emotion left to regret saying that. Wisely, Ray ignores it. 

“He could be hurt,” Is all he says. It’s totally evil, because that’s Frank’s Achilles heel. He needs Gerard safe and fucking _alive_. He doesn’t respond, though, just lets the statement absorb, soak into every cell into his body. He feels sick. Finally, Ray sighs. 

“Look. I’m coming over. I’ll watch Mikey, and you try to find Gerard. If you can’t, we call the police. Deal?” 

“Ray, it’s fine. You don’t have to come over, i’m-“

“Frank. I’m already halfway to your house. Shut up.”

“Okay.” he murmurs, drying his eyes. It’ll be okay.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..........

Frank’s pretty sure he’s broken at least a couple speed limits trying to find Gerard. He’s driven by every park or public place he can think of, but Gerard wasn’t anywhere to be found, and it’s getting dark. Frank won’t admit it to himself, but he’s scared he’s too late. He can’t give up though, because Mikey is home with Ray, still oblivious, and Frank _never_ wants to tell the kid bad news, _ever_. He couldn’t bear making him even more terrified of the world. He really couldn’t; Mikey may as well be his own little brother! But he doesn’t know what to do. He’s seconds away from pulling over, giving in, and calling the police when he thinks of one place he hasn’t checked. 

He’s so _stupid_ , because this is so obvious, and Gerard is so subtly predictable that it would be weird if he was anywhere else. It makes so much sense! He quickly starts up the car and drives frantically towards the alley where he first met the Ways, praying to every God that he’s never believed in to just _let Gerard be okay._  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..........

There’s a foreboding sense of déjà vu walking though the creaky gates of the alley. It’s almost exactly the same as last time, complete with pained moans that Frank is disgustingly grateful for, but a feeling of dread washes over him as he creeps towards the noise, like it’ll turn out differently this time. Like Gerard won’t come home with him this time. He presses his hand against the bricks on his left and whispers,

“Gerard?” He’s only met with more moans and what sounds like it could be crying. Frank is trembling so hard that he’s almost scared to step away from the wall, like he’ll fall over and be even more useless. He settles for keeping his hand hovering over the bricks, fingertips just grazing the rough surface as he heads towards the dumpster which he knows Gerard will be behind. His eyes are starting to adjust to the eerie blue dimness of the alley, and he can just make out the spot where Mikey had almost fallen asleep on the ground. It’s hauntingly familiar, and Frank’s scared he’s going to throw up. He skirts around the dumpster, falling to his knees in front of the figure collapsed on the gravel. Frank shudders at the sight. Gerard is practically convulsing, and Frank can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from drugs. He also had blood dripping steadily from his arms into a terrifyingly large puddle around him. There’s no way Frank is going to be able to help him alone. Gerard won’t let him. Gerard _want’s_ to die. So Frank reluctantly texts Ray their location and to call 911. There’s no choice. 

He scoots over and pulls Gerard’s head into his lap, earning a weak groan. He runs his fingers through Gerard’s tangled hair before stripping off his jacket and pressing it to Gerard’s arms to try to stop the blood.

“It’s gonna be okay,” He sooths, hoping he’s right.

“It’s really not, Frankie.” 

“Gerard?” He says, shocked. Leave it to Gerard to be this coherent while he’s dying. 

“You weren’t supposed to come get me!” Gerard sounds like he’s crying even harder now. The lump that’s been obstructing Frank’s throat for hours now swells.

“Too bad.” He says thickly. Frank saved him. He doesn’t get to die.

“You don’t understand, Frank!”

“So make me! Fucking tell me things Gerard, Jesus Christ! I can’t help you if I don’t know you need help!” 

“You can’t help me, Frank!” Gerard cries, then mumbles, “No one can.” Frank caresses his cheek, wiping away his tears. 

“There’s always help.” 

“Yeah, fucking jail.”

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s only a matter of time. They’d find me eventually. And I don’t want Mikey seeing me carted away in handcuffs. It’d just make him worse”

“Fuck, Gerard, tell me what you’re talking about!” Frank pleads. He’s getting more freaked out by the second. 

“Are you gonna tell?”

“Not a soul.” Gerard shudders a little, groaning in pain. 

“It was me.,” he whispers hesitantly. 

“You?” 

“The house.” Gerard pauses to sob and move his hand to hold Frank’s. Although Frank really like the idea of holding Gerard’s hand and never letting go, he gently pushes his arm back down, scared that movement will make Gerard bleed more. 

“You… oh! You burnt down your house!” Frank says, _finally_ getting it. He’s trying so hard to keep his voice steady. Gerard just nods weakly.

“I had to. My mom. She was…”

“Hurting Mikey?” Frank whispers, risking moving away from the cuts to stroke Gerard’s hair again, because he fucking looks like he needs it. Gerard doesn’t even look surprised that Frank knows about this. 

“Look at the kid. He’s terrified of everything. He thinks he’s a horrible person! You think it’s ‘cause of the fire, but he was like that before! And I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t help him. My mom… she said if I told anyone she would kill him! And I…I just…”

“You love him.” Frank whispers. Gerard nods frantically.

“So much. More than anything. And I had to stay with him. He’d be so much worse if he were all alone! So I made sure he’d be out and… I thought my dad would be out too. But he wasn’t. He was running late.” Gerard is starting to go limp, any energy that seeing Frank restored apparently used up. Frank swallows hard. 

“Okay. Gee, tell me more. I won’t tell. I just want to know.” He’s hoping that the intense emotions will be enough to keep Gerard awake until the ambulance arrives. 

“I couldn’t go to jail and leave Mikey in a foster home. You can understand that, right?” Gerard chokes out. 

“Yeah.” Frank says, and he can. Mikey is fragile. He needs people who understand him. He really does need Gerard. 

“So I had to take him to live on the streets, let everyone think we were just mixed in with the ashes of the house. But it was hard. I didn’t know what to do. I got into bad stuff- you know what I mean.” 

“You’re stronger now.” Frank reminds him, crying yet again. He can feel Gerard’s blood soaking through the jacket and making his hands slippery. “You beat it, Gee. You’ve made mistakes, and you can’t fix those. Dying won’t heal them. You need to reinvent yourself. Make your mistakes seem insignificant beside all the good things.”

“There are no good things, Frank. Why don’t you understand that?” 

“Because sometimes I know you better than you do. And I can’t say for sure how many wonderful things that you’ve done, Gerard Way, but I can say for certain that you’re the only reason why Mikey is still alive and functioning. Do you really want him to grow up without a brother?” Sirens are approaching in the distance, which Frank is more than grateful for. If Gerard knows they’re for him, he pretends not to. 

“Mikey will be better off without me. In a few years he’ll forget me. He has you now. I know you’ll look after him, help him like I couldn’t.” Gerard pauses, takes a few deep breaths before saying, 

“I know you don’t think I realise this, but I fucked him up. I know that he thinks I drank and got high because he was bad. I know that, and it breaks my fucking heart. Even when I try my hardest to help him, it just makes things worse. I can’t cope with my own stupid shit, and he gets hurt. Face it, i’m not good enough for him. Yeah, this’ll hurt him for a while, but if he remembers me, he’ll know I did it because I love him.” Frank can only stare wide eyed at Gerard as his eyes flutter a bit, then slide shut, just as the sirens arrive.


End file.
